


these boots are made for safekeeping

by safestorms



Category: Killjoys (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-05
Updated: 2019-11-05
Packaged: 2021-01-18 19:15:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,089
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21281861
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/safestorms/pseuds/safestorms
Summary: post-finale ode to dutch and johnny's relationship
Relationships: Dutch | Yalena Yardeen & Johnny Jaqobis
Comments: 6
Kudos: 22





	these boots are made for safekeeping

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to my fellow DutchJohnny fans who looked this over and gave me feedback and for the conversations that helped inspire parts of this fic.

Johnny dips Dutch as the music pulses around them triumphant, a victory anthem for apocalypses averted and battles won. Dutch twirls, her hair floating around her as she spins, smile electric and this is the most happy Johnny has seen her in months. He’s never more glad to be alive here, safe and sound with her, amongst a throng of bodies on a prison ship. 

The night before he leaves, he can’t sleep and he’s unsurprised to find her awake too, curled up in the rambler. Like the night before she’d planned to confront Khylen at the RAC and kill him. It seems like forever ago. "_Say it one more time, what you said the night we first met"_, she’d asked him that night, prickly yet unguarded, looking for reassurance which is what Johnny Jaqobis does best. "_We don’t have to stay here. We can just fly away and never come back,” _he’d echoed. 

When had ‘we dont have to stay here’ become ‘you don’t have to stay here, Johnny’? But isn’t that what those words had always been about? Assurance to each other that they never have to be stuck, tied down to any one thing, place or person. An offering of hope to each other that they will always be free to be their own person. That is what it means to be DutchandJohnny. 

_"People change"_, Johnny had said to her once. "_Everything changes.__ That’s natural law"_. What Johnny fears is that them changing, his flying away means that their relationship will become unsustainable. She’d said “_y__ou’re never going to lose me,” _ but Johnny’s whole life has been a history of being left. 

“Dutch-” he starts but she cuts him off, wrapping her arms around him and burying her face in his shoulder. 

“I know,” she murmurs and for now, it’s enough, it’s enough. 

“We can just fly away and never look back,” he whispers into her hair. He means it like reassurance, like a promise,like hope because isn’t that what it’d always been to them?

“Tap my heart,” she says back fiercely because that’s Dutch, fiercely protective till the end. 

He presses a kiss lingering and tender to the top of her head. Ammunition for the days ahead. 

*

So,” she says, eyes crinkling soft, the way they only do around him, _ for _ him. Gods, he’s missed this. It’s their first live video chat after he’s left and even though seeing her face on a screen doesn’t compare to looking at her in the flesh, it’s still enough to make everything in him come alive. “What have I missed in the world of Johnny Jaqobis?” 

“_ Weeellll_,” he says shrugging with feigned nonchalance.“Let’s see. My robot goat herd’s expanded. Caught some bad guys. Got into a few shit fights. Saved the world once or twice. _ Annd _...oh yeah, stole myself a couple of badass new ships. You know. The usual.” He grins at her, easy, trying to quell the pang in his heart. 

She laughs, warm and fond and so _ familiar _, it makes something inside him ache. But he’ll be damned if he’s going to ruin Dutch’s day by making her worry about him of all things. She’s got enough on her plate to deal with. 

“Speaking of _ ships_,” Dutch teases, “have you put your missiles in the warden’s launch bay yet?” 

“I’m _ offended _ you think I’d kiss and tell. I love you Dutch but I _ never _ want to hear the words ‘missile’ and ‘launch bay’ coming out of your mouth. _ Ever _ again.”

Dutch smirks because she never can resist taking his bait. “Missile. LAUNCH BAY.” 

“I hope you know how much I hate you right now.” 

“Oooh you’ve got me shaking in my big girl boots.” 

Johnny tilts his head in contemplation. “The ones with the kickass buckles I won for you that night we got _ reallly _ drunk and I beat that weird guy at poker at the ass end of the J? Or the _ other _ones from Mission Mystery Meat?” 

A smile spreads across her face, blooming and effusive, like she can’t help herself, like every cell in her being is delighted by him. “Oh you know the ones,” she murmurs, fond. 

He smiles. “I _ do _know the ones.” 

Her smile fades into something more wistful. “That reminds me that you left a pair of your boots behind. _ But _ I’m keeping them safe for you until you come home.” Her voice cracks on the word home, betraying her but Johnny does what he always does - smooths it over. 

“Which boots?The sexy ones?” 

Dutch nods. To anyone who doesn’t know her well, they wouldn’t see what Johnny can as clear as day: the effort it’s taking her to paper over her cracks. “The sexy ones,” she confirms, mouth tilting up into a half smile that doesn't quite reach her eyes. The thing about Johnny is that he’s always been able to see right through her. The thing about Dutch is that she knows this too but this is the dance they do, the both of them. Giving each other space to be vulnerable but also to pretend that they’re okay. Helping each other fake normalcy. Because they both understand that sometimes you need masks to get through the day. This is what they do for each other. Their banter is how they ground each other, validation and anchorage all at once.

It’s Johnny’s cue now to take the next step in their dance. “Tell D’av that if he even _ thinks _ of messing around with them….”

“Yeah, yeah,” Dutch says rolling her eyes. “You two will have one of your stupid brotherly wrestling matches.” 

“Hey,” Johnny protests. “I beat him the last time!”

Dutch throws up her hands. “I refuse to get in the middle of this.” 

“So, how’s everything going with you, Dutch?” 

She plasters on a smile. “Everything’s going great. There’s one thing I’m missing though.” 

“What?” 

Her smile falters, her mouth tugging itself into a shape that sends a bullet through his heart.“You.” 

He can feel the tears pricking his eyes now. “Well, I’m very missable," he jokes. 

She smiles a watery smile back. 

It's getting late now and he knows he should go to sleep or his body will hate him the next morning. But he doesn't want to go quite yet. “Still having trouble sleeping?” he asks. 

Dutch nods. 

“Me too. Bedtime story?”

“Why not?”

He waits for her to get comfortable on the couch she's curled up on, glass of Hokk in her hand while he digs up an issue of Captain Apex from under his bed. He's about to start reading from it when Dutch interjects - "Not that I don't _love_ hearing your Velubian Princess voice but I'm in the mood for something else tonight. How about our story?"

Johnny complies willingly. She has a haunted look in her eyes tonight and he'd do anything for her right now if she says so. He clears his throat. “Once upon a time," he starts, because that's how all good stories begin, "there was a boy who dreamed of flying away to find his Velubian princess. One fateful day that boy who’d grown up to become a _very_ handsome thief met a runaway queen and together they flew away.” 

“A thief who _ tried _ to steal her ship,” Dutch corrects. 

This has become their new bedtime ritual. Reclaiming their story from Khylen and telling _ their _ version of it to each other. Spinning tales into the black of night, their words lighting up the stars,a web of constellations connecting them across the galaxies. He would traverse them for her in a heartbeat. 

Her eyes are fluttering shut now and he thinks she’s drifting off. “My heart’s a compass pointing straight back to you, you know that, right?” he murmurs. 

“Magnetic north,” she whispers back. 

They’ve had this conversation a few times by now. It had been Johnny who’d pointed out how there are different kinds of norths - magnetic north and true north. A compass points to magnetic north not true north. Magnetic north is a wandering point whereas true north is fixed. But it was Dutch who’d put it together. _ “To hells with Khylen’s bullshit about you being my true north. You’re my magnetic north. Wherever you go, that’s where my heart lies. We don’t have a fixed point.” _

“Stay safe.”

“Come home safe.” 

It’s their ritual, their mantra they recite in hopes that it’ll keep the other safe. Beacons lighting the way back home. 

*

“One shitty guest bed coming right up,” is the first thing he says when he lays eyes on her in person for the first time since he’d left. It’s been five months, seven more to go in his one-year but this little reunion is courtesy of some alien hullen babies business Dutch has going near where he’s staying. He’s never really understood the phrase ‘you’re a sight for sore eyes’ before until now. He can’t stop drinking her up like a man lost in the badlands. 

“_ Shut up _,” Dutch says in that fond-exasperated way she does like she’s trying hard to keep from crying. She throws her arms around him and it feels like safety and home and everything right in this world. 

After she lets him go, she shoves him on the shoulder playfully. She’s fighting a losing battle with her tear ducts but then, so is he. “Johnny, tell me you didn’t give me the shitty guest bed.” 

“Oh but I _ did _. Can’t you tell this is my serious face?” 

She narrows her eyes at him. “I can tell it’s your ‘I’m lying’ face."

They're walking up to Lucy's doors and just as they enter, a song starts playing.

"Welcome home, Dutch," Lucy says. "Johnny's asked me to play some music for you to welcome you back." 

Johnny watches as Dutch runs her fingers affectionately over Lucy’s walls with a gentleness that's all _hers_, not trained or taught by Khylen. “Thanks, Lucy. It's good to be back.” 

“She missed you,” he says. 

“Not as much as she’d have missed you if you left. You know you’re her favorite...” Dutch's voice trails off, like there’s a lump in her throat, choking her words. “So how’s it going figuring out what Johnny Jaqobis wants?” 

“It’s going.” 

“Still figuring it out?” 

“Yeah.” 

“You know what else I can tell? When something's bothering you. Best friend privileges. Spit it out, Johnny.” 

“Who me? I'm fine.” She stares him down and this is not a battle he’s going to win. “I just-” he sighs, giving in, “what if, after all this, we end up going our separate ways and we lose touch? Remember what I said, everything changes? It’s natural law. Things end.” He feels naked now. Vulnerable. 

But Dutch, Dutch studies him intently, carefully, her gaze soft like his feelings matter and after all this time, it still feels like gold to him. Something he'll never take for granted.“Things also adapt and evolve. That's natural law too. If you need me to say it's okay for you to choose not to come back, then I will. Whatever you choose Johnny, you'll still have me. We'll be okay."

"Promise?" he asks.

"Promise," she says, taking her hand in his and pressing a kiss fierce to his palm. "We're partners, aren't we? Even if we're not Killjoys together anymore. Look, I’ve still got your boots. If it makes you feel better, I’ll keep them.”

“Like...a ransom?” he jokes. “Collateral? Wait...are you kidnapping my boots? And you say, _I'm _the thief.”

“Haha, very funny," she says, rolling her eyes. "Like a keepsake, dummy. They’ll always be there waiting for you to come back for them. I’ll keep them safe for you, Johnny Jaqobis. Just like I’m keeping a place safe in my heart for you. You'll always have somewhere to come home to. You know,” she says. “We don’t have to stay here. We can just fly away and never come back.” It's their mantra, their anthem till the end of worlds. 

Now he really _is _having trouble wiping tears out of his eyes. “So," he asks, offering his hand to her instead."Yalena Yardeen, may I have one last dance with you before you go? Just for old time’s sake? Like that time before our Killjoys Two-year when we fake-married?” 

“Why not?”

He dips her and she spins circles in his arms, both of them like satellites orbiting each other, pulled to each other's gravity. It’ll never be the end of them. They are forever.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading. Feedback is always appreciated here or at my tumblr (safestorms). 
> 
> I do not claim to get SCIENCE so please forgive all errors to do with the magnetic versus true north explanation/definition here.


End file.
